


When the Coffee Shop Empties

by CheezLord12



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adorable, Barista Oliver, Boys Being Boys, Fluff, M/M, Perciver - Freeform, Romance, Writer Percy, coffee shop AU, they’re both so awkward
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:21:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28564212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheezLord12/pseuds/CheezLord12
Summary: Percy’s heard that writing at a coffee shop helps get rid of writers block, but all it’s done is make a disproportionate amount of his attention fall on a certain barista.
Relationships: Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood
Comments: 4
Kudos: 99





	When the Coffee Shop Empties

Oliver pulled his apron around his waist, turning around and relieving Alicia. He turned to the counter, letting a customer approach him.

“Welcome to Magic Coffee, how can I help you?” 

“Um, can I have a coffee?”

Oliver resisted the urge to slam his head on the counter, but he smiled instead. “What trope of coffee, ma’am?”

“Uhhhh… what type do you have?”

_ Oh, Jesus, this was going to be a long shift. _

~

Oliver discreetly glanced at the clock as he slid a pastry across the counter, giving a smile to the customer just as he’d been trained.

“Next.” He called. The next person in line looked up from his phone, revealing a stunningly freckled face, wearing an adorably surprised expression.

He stepped forward, tucking his phone into his jeans. “Ah–can I get an iced coffee and cherry danish?”

“Sure.” Oliver grinned at him, a far more authentic smile than the one he usually wore at work. He kept the smile on his face as he leaned down into the pastry case, using a piece of wax paper to pull out a cherry danish.

He slid it across the counter in exchange for the man’s credit card. He handed it back, along with the receipt, Oliver’s eyes latched on the man’s lithe fingers as he tucked the small plastic rectangle away.

“You can collect your drink at that counter.” Oliver told him, turning away with a nod.

There was no one in the line behind the man, so Oliver rinsed off his hands and started to wipe down tables, looking up as the redhead picked up his coffee and sat at one of the wooden chairs, pulling a laptop from his bag and starting to type, pausing only to sip the iced coffee.

_ Maybe, _ Oliver thought.  _ Maybe this shift won’t be so bad. _

~

Percy resisted the urge to pick his laptop up and fling it across the room, reminding himself that he was in a public place and laptops were very expensive and did not mix well with coffee.

He stared at the blinking cursor in the document in front of him. It always happened like this, the writer's block. He would be typing away, fingers flying across the keyboard, and suddenly, it would just… stop.

He would stumble on a word, and suddenly all of his writing skill was gone. According to the internet, writing in a coffee shop was supposed to help, but the only difference was that here, he couldn’t scream in frustration.

He glared hard at the cursor, willing it to stop being so  _ annoying _ , but it just kept blinking at him.

“You think you’re so innocent, don’t you?” He hissed at the cursor. “I know this is your fault, you–“

“Excuse me, sir.”

Percy looked up suddenly, blinking at the man in front of him. It was the friendly man from earlier, the one who’d taken his order. “Yes?” He asked.

“I’m just letting you know that we close in five minutes.” He said hesitantly, adjusting a strand of his brown hair. 

Percy's eyes widened and his eyes drifted to the corner of the screen.  _ 5:55. _

It wasn’t as if he had any plans, he never had plans, but it was much later than he’d thought.

“Oh, terribly sorry.” He exclaimed. “I didn’t realize it had gotten so late.” He shut (alright, slammed) the computer shut and stood, giving the man a short nod before walking out into the street.

~

Oliver couldn’t help the small smile that took over his lips when the redhead–Percy, he’d learned–strode into the coffee shop again. He tapped Alicia on the shoulder, letting her know he could take the counter for some time, and was positioned readily when Percy arrived at the counter.

“Welcome to Magic Coffee, how can I help you?” Even to him, Oliver’s voice was overly enthusiastic.

Percy blinked, pausing before saying, “I’ll, uhm, take an iced coffee.” 

Oliver nodded, tapping at the register. “Sure. Is that all?”

“Yep.” Percy pursed his lips together, offering the card once more.

Oliver watched as he walked to the same table as yesterday, once again pulling out a laptop, though today, he did not start typing immediately.

~

As always, there was a lull in customers in the half hour before the shop closed, and Oliver was left alone with Percy.

He watched him from the corner of his eye as he mopped the floor. He seemed to be in distress, muttering at the screen angrily, even poking a finger out at it every once in a while.

Finally, Oliver gathered up all his courage and approached him. “Having trouble with your computer?”

The man startled and looked up. “Well, yes. Sort of. I’m trying to write, but I have a severe case of writer's block.” He rubbed his forehead. “It’s easier to take it out on the computer.”

Oliver resisted the urge to laugh and pulled up a chair. “Well, what’s your book about?”

Percy looked a little alarmed at Oliver sitting next to him, but he responded anyway. “Fantasy. It’s about a boy who is the subject of a prophecy…” he trailed off, describing the book he had so far.

Oliver only half listened, too focused on the passion with which he spoke, how he really started to lose himself in it, gesturing with his hands and leaning forward across the table.

“...and, well, that’s where I’m at. I just can’t figure out why the dragon would even want to keep the scroll in the first place. I mean, he can’t read it so…” his eyes widened, and he turned to the computer. “He can’t read it! Oh, he’s curious about why he can’t read it!”

He turned back to Oliver. “Thank you so much!” Oliver blinked, unable to respond.

He was frozen to the spot by the way Percy seemed to  _ glow _ with excitement, his wild red curls turning somehow more fiery under the light.

Oh, Oliver really didn’t want to tell him that they’d closed ten minutes ago.

~

Percy had to admit that when Oliver (according to his name tag) had initially approached him, Percy had been a little awestruck.

He’d hardly seen the man when he was serving Percy coffee, but now, looking him in the face, Percy noticed a little something.

Oliver was  _ extremely hot _ .

Percy's brain short circuited when Oliver sat down next to him. He smelled like coffee _ –duh– _ with a hint of vanilla, and suddenly, all he could think of was running his fingers through that messy brown hair–.

_ No.  _ He reminded himself.  _ You are here to write, not daydream. _

He ordered his iced coffee, trying to ignore Oliver’s warm grin (did he smile at all the customers like that?) and starting to type once again.

Just like the night before, Percy was the last one in the shop as the last traces of sunlight disappeared outside.

Just like the night before, Oliver approached Percy and asked him a question.

“Gotten over the writers block?”

Percy nodded, acting as if he  _ hadn’t  _ been watching Oliver from the corner of his eye, secretly praying he would come near. “Yes, thanks. I’ve written another five thousand words, see!”

Before he knew it, Oliver was sitting next to him again and they were looking at the screen together, heads very close together.

Much too close together.

Percy tried not to be too obvious as he inhaled deeply, taking in the coffee-and-vanilla scent. 

Oh, dear, this was going to be a long night.

~

Oliver psyched himself up as Percy walked into Magic Coffee. He was going to do it today, right now.

He was going to ask Percy out.

_ Keep calm. _ He reminded himself, nodding cooly at Percy and ringing him up.

_ Okay, now do it. _ He coached himself.

_ Wait, what? _ His voice shouted back.

_ Do it! _

_ What? How? I don’t– _

_ Ah, he’s gone. Nice going, dumbass. _

Oliver blinked, pulling himself out of his very peculiar thoughts to see that Percy had, indeed, retreated to his usual table.

~

_ For real this time. _ Oliver thought, nearing Percy later that night.  _ Just like you practiced. _

_ What? I never– _

“Hey, Percy. How’s it coming along?”

Percy nodded, his hair sparking against the yellow light. “Pretty well, thanks.” Unlike the night before, he didn’t elaborate and just went back to typing.

“Cool, cool.” Oliver muttered. “So, I wanted to ask you something.”

Percy finally tore his attention away from the computer, folding his hands in his lap. “Yes?”

Oliver licked his lips. “Well, you see, I was just wondering. If, you know, if you wanted to… get a cherry danish to go. We’re–ah–closing in a few minutes.”

Percy’s brows knit together, and he raised an eyebrow. “No, thank you. I should be going, actually. I have dinner plans.”

Oliver nodded, standing.

_ Well done.  _ His inner voice hissed.  _ He didn’t even say yes to the cherry danish. _

~

For a moment there, it had felt like Oliver was going to ask him out.

_ But,  _ Percy reminded himself.  _ That’s ridiculous. He was just trying to get you to leave. _

He focused all his attention on his story–he did, after all, have deadlines to meet, until the coffee shop had emptied again and Oliver approached him.

“Hey, Percy. We’re closing soon.”

Percy looked up and smiled. “Oliver! Can you read this sentence, see if it looks clunky. I’ve read it too many times to be able to tell.”

Oliver nodded, sitting down and scanning the computer screen. “It looks fine to me.”

Percy nodded. “Thanks.” He turned to look Oliver in the eyes as he said it, realizing that they were very close together.

Perhaps it was the fact that they were sitting in a hall of light, the darkness pressing in from the windows. Perhaps it was the iced caffeine in Percy’s veins. Perhaps, it was even pure adrenaline.

Whatever the case, Percy found himself leaning forward and kissing Oliver. Oliver kissed back immediately, as if he’d been expecting, nay, anticipating it. 

Percy shifted a little, threading his fingers into Oliver’s hair.

The kiss was short and hesitant and, far too soon, in Percy's opinion, they broke apart.

“Oliver,” Percy whispered against his lips, still wrapped up in him. “Will you go out with me?”

Oliver smiled, glancing at the clock. “I’m free in… two minutes. How’s that?”

Percy only kissed Oliver again in response.


End file.
